


Good Enough? How about just enough?

by SeidheFae



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No. 12, Post-Tsunami (9-1-1), Protective Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Whump, Whumptober 2020, broken down, broken trust, post law suit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26970946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeidheFae/pseuds/SeidheFae
Summary: Buck wasn't immediately re-instated following Rage. The impact is life threatening.Whumptober 2020: Day 12--I Think I've Broken SomethingBroken Down | Broken Bones | Broken Trust
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan “Buck” Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 89
Kudos: 539
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Exhausted

Buck took another swig from the rum bottle before answering Eddie’s call on the fourth ring. If he’d been thinking clearly, he wouldn’t have answered it, but, at this point, denying himself any contact with his best friend was just something he couldn’t make himself do. 

“‘Lo?” he answered, voice low enough that he hoped the slur was imperceptible. 

It’s been a week since he last heard Eddie’s voice in the grocery store, the echo of _you’re exhausting_ running through his head again and again. Bobby had called him that evening, let him know that the Chief was in negotiations to get him reinstated, that they hadn’t wanted the headache of a lawsuit. 

Because that’s all he was: a headache. 

“Buck? Do you have a minute?” 

“Sure, Eds,” he answered, working to enunciate past the numbness in his lips, “you ‘kay?” 

“Look, um, I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day about. . . about Chris, and Abuela told me he’s been asking to talk to you all night before bed,” Eddie blew out an exasperated breath, and Buck could imagine the way the older man rubbed the back of his neck, thick eyebrows drawn together. “I know it would mean a lot for him to talk to you. . .” 

Buck’s lips wobbled as he thought of Chris, that precious little ball of sunshine that he’d lost in the water. His breath hitched, and he took another slug of rum, trying to dull the pain in his chest. He grabbed another tiny, yellow tablet from the coffee table, sticking it under his tongue as he looked out the dark loft windows. 

“—Buck? _Buck?!”_

“Hmm?” Buck returned his attention to Eddie. He didn’t even know he’d stopped paying attention. “Sorry, ‘m s’ry, Ed’s, what?” 

“I just asked if you wanted to talk to Christopher,” his tone was incredulous, “hell man, I’m taking a huge step here trusting you to talk to my son. Do you really not care?” 

Buck’s face screwed up at the anger in Eddie’s voice, trying to keep the hurt from entering his own. “Ah-course I care, Eds. S’just. . . It’s not r’lly a good t’me. . .” he couldn’t disguise his increasing slur, but he hoped he held back the sound of the thick sob growing in his throat, “Chris shoul’n’t talk t’me like this.” He tucked his free arm around his torso and pressed his face into his jean clad knees, trying to muffle his wet sniffle. _I’m sorry, Superman,_ he thought, heartbroken. 

“Buck, are you _drunk_?!” Eddie hissed, voice lowering as it became even more disbelieving. “You’re on _blood thinners_ , Evan, are you _crazy_? What happened to taking care of yourself so you could get back to the station?” 

He laughed, the sound wavering and wrong. “Dunn’t matter, Eds,” he answered, leaning back against the bottom of the couch, head tipping back for another swallow of liquor. He grabbed at the table clumsily, hearing a couple of skitters across the floor. The chalky texture of the pills was unpleasant, and his tongue worked against the inside of his mouth, washing it down with more rum. 

_“What?_ What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Wasn’t that the whole point of the lawsuit? Wasn’t that the whole point of you not being around?” Eddie’s voice was angry, his tone taking the same razor edge it had in the grocery store when he’d had his finger in Buck’s face. 

Buck shook his head, rubbing clumsily at his eyes as they started to water, forgetting that Eddie couldn’t see him. “Nah... not really,” he mumbled, honesty forced to the surface through alcohol and drugs, “I jus’ wanted to c’me home, but ev’n Bobby d’n wan’ me back. Nobody wants me, Eds,” he whimpered, “‘M alone.” 

_Parents didn’t want him. Maddie abandoned him twice, Abby left, Ali couldn’t handle him. . .Bobby didn’t want him._

The crew of the 118 didn’t understand why the job meant so much to him. They had families, kids, lives outside of the station. What did Buck have really? A group of people who didn’t want him, didn’t understand him. At least as a firefighter he made a difference, saved lives. Who was Evan Buckley without that? What did he have without that?

An empty apartment, and a sister who didn’t need him. He didn’t have Eddie and Chris, they weren’t his, not really. He’d ruined whatever they could have been with the lawsuit, with abandoning them, however unintentionally. Eddie would never forgive him, not after Shannon did the same thing 

All the while, playing on repeat: _You’re exhausting. Suck it up. You’re exhausting. Suck it up. You’re exhausting._

“What are you talking about, Buck? We’re pissed, but we’re a family, okay? You had a place in the 118 until the damn lawsuit, hell, from what I hear you’re getting that spot _back_. All you had to do was talk to us, Buck, and none of this would’ve happened.” 

That was Buck. The impulsive fuck up. Didn’t think about the consequences. 

“Would you—“ he hiccuped, rubbing a few more tears away with his damp sleeve, “—w’ld you tell Chris m’sorry? I jus’ couldn’t keep swimmin’, ‘kay? He’s such an awesome kid, s’not his fault I’m fucked up.” 

“What? Buck, you’re not making any sense.”

“Might be the pills,” he mumbled, “makin’ errything fuzzy.” 

“Pills?!” Eddie gasped liked he’d been sucker punched, “Buck, what?” 

“Jusss dinn’t wanna hurt anymore, Eds,” he tried to explain, “feels like my chest’s always ‘bout to implode. M’heart’s bein’ crushed,” he snorted indelicately, “s’worse than my leg. Hurts. M’so tired a’hurtin’, Eds.” 

“Oh, Buck, cariño mio,” it sounded like Eddie was about to cry, “do you know how many you took?” He thought he heard a feminine voice in the background, thick with concern. “Me tengo que ir, Abuela, te lo explicare mas tarde. Call 9-1-1 to Buck’s. Now.” There was the sound of a door slamming, and Eddie breathing hard into the phone. 

“Don’ call 9-1-1, Eds,” he slurred, “m’fine, don’ wanna bother Maddie.” 

“You’re not fine,” Eddie snapped, “do you know how many you took? What did you take?”

“Don’ be mad,” he started crying softly, “can’t stand when you’re mad a’me. M’sorry I lost Chris, m’so sorry.” 

“Buck,” Eddie took a deep breath, his tone softening, ”Chris is home safe, I told you I don’t blame you for that. Cariño, I need to know what you took, how much did you take?” 

“I dunno,” he mumbled, “had ‘lot from my sug’ry dinn’t use. Tried t’get better faster. Dinn’t work,” he sniffled, swallowing thickly, voice shaking, “cause m’not good enough.” 

“Buck, _Evan_ ,” there was a car door slamming in the background, an engine revving, “you’re good, so good, nothing’s been the same without you, cariño, please.”

“You don’ want me, Eds,” Buck slurred, biting his lip as his heart gave a viscous squeeze. It didn’t matter than Buck had wanted Eddie since he’d seen him in that locker room for the first time, had fallen in love with him and his son after seeing them after that earthquake. Eddie didn’t, could never, want Buck back. Couldn’t love Buck the same way he loved him, with everything, every ounce of himself. He hiccuped back a sob as he took another slug of rum, another pill to chase away the pain, head lolling on the couch cushions, “Bosko already replaced me anyway. . .s’better.” 

Bosko would take care of Eddie. It’s not like Buck had done a very good job of having Eddie’s back. 

“Bosko?! _What—How?!_ ” Eddie couldn’t seem to settle on a question, an inarticulate noise of bewilderment trailing his quick breaths. “Talk to me, cariño, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“The truck, the embolism, the tsu—tsunami. . .“ he blinked slowly, taking a shallow breath and sighing it out over the phone, lips wobbling as he sniffled back a whine, “M’be the w’rld’s tryin’ t’tell me somethin’, ya know?”

“Buck, _Evan_ , what are you saying?” The other man’s voice was shattered, and it broke Buck’s heart, destroying the last dam holding back his tears. 

“‘M jus’ so tired, Eds,” he sobbed, letting the tears stream down his cheeks. “I know ‘m exhausting,” he said, quoting Eddie’s words that had burned their way into his brain, “but ‘m jus’ so tired. M’sorry, I can’t. . .can’t do it anymore.” The lump in his throat became too thick to force words past, and he sobbed harder, head swimming. 

Everything was becoming heavier, breaths shallower as his eyelids slid closed. The rum bottle tipped to the side, clinking against the floor as a dribble of liquid splashed out onto his limp hand. He didn’t remember the last time he’d slept without nightmares, without being crushed by a ladder truck, being swept away by the water, without losing Chris. Seeing the _blame_ in Eddie’s eyes for losing his son. 

Couldn’t he just sleep?

_“—uck! Evan?! Don’t you dare go to sleep!_ I’m almost there, please, cariño mio, por favor.”

Had he said that stuff out loud? He hadn’t meant to, but he couldn’t find the energy to apologize as the phone slipped from his hand. Eddie’s voice became even more muffled until even that went away.


	2. Not Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Brief non-descriptive emesis mention
> 
> http://suicidepreventionlifeline.org  
> Please be safe

_“FUCK, no puedo hacer esto de nuevo!”_ Eddie screamed into the phone. His grip on the steering wheel was white knuckled, his foot pushing him to dangerous speeds as he raced to Evan’s loft. “ _EVAN?!_ Respóndeme!”

The other man didn’t respond, hadn’t responded in what felt like hours, but Eddie didn’t dare hang up to even call 9-1-1, terrified of losing the last connection he had to his friend.

He barely had enough forethought to throw the truck into park as he skidded to a halt in front of Buck’s building, long legs already eating up the sidewalk as he dashed inside and up the stairs.

The only reason he didn’t kick the door in was because he knew which key was Buck’s, but the door still bounced against the wall with the force of his entry.

“BUCK!” His friend was leaned against the foot of his couch, an almost empty liter of rum was on its side next to him, yellow percocets scattered across the floor and coffee table. Eddie dove onto his knees, experienced hands already seeking out Buck’s pulse. It was thready and weak, the unconscious man’s respirations almost imperceptible, skin clammy.

“Buck! Wake the fuck up!” he shouted, slapping at Buck’s cheek as his head lolled to the side. He didn’t respond, and Eddie pressed his knuckles into his sternum hard, curling his free hand around the back of Buck’s neck.

Buck groaned when Eddie didn’t let up, eye brows furrowing as he tried to push Eddie’s hand away. “That’s it, Buck,” he breathed, grabbing ahold of Buck’s hand, “open your eyes for me, Evan. Look at me, dammit!” He shook Buck slightly, gritting his teeth when those gorgeous blue eyes opened.

His gaze was glassy and unfocused, still wet with unshed tears. He didn’t seem to see Eddie, eyelids starting to slide back down until he jostled him again. Buck heaved in an uncomfortably short gasp, tear streaks making his birthmark stand out bright against his dangerously pale skin.

“Fuck, come on, Buck,” he cursed, grabbing his abandoned phone and dialing that all too familiar number.

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

Eddie had a brief moment where he was dizzy with relief that it wasn’t Maddie that answered, Chimney’s complaints of a ruined date night still ringing in his ears. “Dispatch this is Firefighter Eddie Diaz, House 118, I need to check on the ETA of any units dispatched to 225 Beacon Hills, Apartment 4B.”

“Copy, Firefighter Diaz, we dispatched a black and white to that location. Caller had no details, and unit was delayed. Should be there in ten minutes.”

Eddie cursed, putting the phone on speaker and shaking Buck as the man’s eyes fluttered closed. “Keep your eyes open, Buck! You know the drill. That’s no good, dispatch, I have a 28 year old male with possible opiate overdose, ETOH onboard, GCS of 8. I need an RA unit with plenty of Narcan.”

“Copy, Firefighter Diaz, RA unit five minutes out.”

Hanging up on dispatch was probably not Eddie’s smartest decision, but he couldn’t handle the distraction while Buck wasn’t responding to him. He cupped Buck’s face in his hands, trying to get his unfocused, glassy gaze to meet his own. “Buck, c’mon baby, look at me,” he growled, thumb tracing the other man’s cheek bone in a mockery of his harsh tone.

Buck’s eyelids fluttered, but he finally, _finally_ focused on Eddie, his abnormally pale lips trembling as he forced out a barely audible, “Eds?”

Eddie slumped, nodding frantically. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here, Evan, I’m right here.” He pressed their foreheads together, and Buck sighed out another few sobs, body otherwise completely limp in Eddie’s grip. “Shhhh, it’s okay, Buck, I gotcha, I gotcha,” Eddie tucked Buck’s face into the curve of his neck, rocking him as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Stay with me, stay awake, okay?”

Buck hiccuped, still crying softly, mumbling unintelligible apologies into Eddie’s neck.

“Shh, it’s not your fault, cariño, it’s not your fault,” Eddie shut his eyes tightly, sliding his arms around Buck and clutching the bigger man close. His grip was so tight it had to be be bruising, but he couldn’t make himself loosen until Buck gave a distinctive choked lurch. Eddie, trained as both a paramedic and a father, reacted quickly, tipping the other man to the side as he heaved up alcohol and bile.

“Okay, okay, let it out,” he murmured, bracing Buck so that he didn’t fall into the puddle of sick. He rubbed the other man’s back as he groaned softly and started crying again. Eddie’s heart broke at the disconsolate sound, and he pulled Buck back into the circle of his arms, not even flinching as he wiped away the spittle on his lips with the corner of his sleeve. “Just breathe, cariño, I gotcha.”

Buck’s sobbing trailed off as he lost focus again, his head thumping down onto Eddie’s shoulder like it was too heavy for him to hold up. “Stay awake, Buck!” he shouted, shaking him roughly. Buck didn’t respond, hands laying limp on the floor, skin dangerously cool against Eddie’s cheek.His fingers automatically moved to Buck’s throat, seeking out the faint pitter patter of the other man’s pulse. “Damnit, Buck,” he hissed, squeezing the meat of Buck’s trapezius in a punishing grip.

His heart seized in panic when his friend didn’t react, and he grabbed ahold of the larger man’s biceps, struggling to get his not-inconsiderable mass to lay flat on the floor away from the puddle of vomit.

“Buck!” Hen and Chimney’s echoed shout made Eddie’s his head snap over to where his teammates were barreling into Buck’s apartment. Hen’s gasp and Chim’s stuttered step behind the gurney as they caught sight of Buck were all the two professionals allowed themselves as they dropped their packs for a flurry of motion.

“What do we got, Eddie?” Chim asked, pushing Buck’s coffee table and couch away so that they had room to work.

“Percocet and alcohol, he couldn’t tell me how much before he lost consciousness. Respirations are depressed, pulse is light and thready. No response to painful stimuli. We need oxygen and Narcan on board ASAP.” 

Hen knelt next to Buck’s head, thumbing his eyelids up as she shone a light in his face. “Pupils are constricted. Eddie’s right, need to get that Narcan, Chim. Buckaroo, can you hear me?” she called, voice pitched to carry.

Buck didn’t twitch, even when Hen’s knuckles came down to rub across his sternum hard. “Now, Chim,” she ordered, the panic in her voice poorly disguised.

Chimney knelt next to him, IV material in hand as he all but shoved Eddie out of the way. Practiced hands made the insertion of the IV the work of a few seconds, and Eddie swallowed hard as Chim injected the clear liquid into the line. His hands were starting to shake now that help had arrived. Normally, he’d just shrug off the hit of adrenaline, get right into the action. But this was _Buck_ , and his heart was in his fucking throat watching his friends work to save the life of the man he hadn’t told he loved yet.

It hit him like a fucking frag grenade as Chim and Hen got Buck loaded onto the stretcher.

_Buck just tried to kill himself._

Eddie simultaneously wanted to vomit and fall to the floor weeping, begging for it to not be true. He wanted to be mad at Buck for making this incredibly selfish decision, but it was subsumed by the horror of _how would I have told Chris? How would I have told Maddie?_

_How would I have lived without him?!_

He must have made some sort of noise because Chim’s hand came down on his shoulder, squeezing hard to bring him out of whatever freak out he was about to fall into. “Don’t do this here, man. If I have to sedate you then I’m leaving you here, got it?”

It was an empty threat, and Eddie knew it, but it did the job of getting him back on his feet and following Buck downstairs and into the ambulance. Chim got in the front to drive while Hen stayed in the back with Eddie and Buck. The latter was still unconscious, but Hen was monitoring the pulse ox they’d hooked him up to, and Eddie trusted her to do what was necessary. He’d just be a hinderance with how badly he was shaking, how far away his mind was right now.

Eddie sat at Buck’s head, feeling like he was floating as he brushed a hand through Buck’s curls. He vividly recalled sitting in the back of an ambulance with Shannon as she took her last breaths. As she begged for more time to get things right, to be with Christopher. He loved her, but now he knew that even if Shannon hadn’t wanted a divorce this time that it wouldn’t have worked out. Eventually, they would have fallen apart again because there was no way Eddie would have ever gotten unstuck from Buck.

And now, he was riding in an ambulance with Buck. Who just tried to kill himself. The person whose smile could light up any room, who had lit up Eddie’s life in so many ways. Buck brought him Carla, got his son a skateboard he could actually use, stood by him after Shannon’s death. Had always had his back if Eddie only indicated in the smallest of ways that he needed help.

His breathing hitched, and he put his forehead against Buck’s again. Squeezing his eyes closed and praying for one of the first times since Afghanistan for something other than his son.

But, of course, Eddie knew God didn’t always hear a poor sinner like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, I didn't actually expect a response to this fic for some reason? Thank you guys! 
> 
> Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/whumpywhumper  
> I write for kudos, comments, and reblogs :) 
> 
> I have the next couple of sections already written, so I'm going to try to update regularly.


	3. Mistakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be safe: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org

Eddie was in the waiting room, elbows balanced on his knees as he gnawed his way through a hangnail.

Hen and Chim had promised that they would come back once they dropped off the ambulance at the station, their shift finally over. Eddie had been on a swing shift, and he was thanking every lucky star in the sky that he’d been off earlier than his teammates and home with enough time to be putting Chris to bed, otherwise, tonight could have gone very differently.

He’d sent a text to Abuela, letting her know to not expect him home, to tell Chris that he was taking care of Buck because he was sick. He was lucky all she responded with was a wish for him to pass on her love and not a phone call because his Abuelita would have had the truth from him with one well placed sigh. As it was, she knew something was wrong, but she was letting him come to her with it. A rare enough occurrence that Eddie wasn’t going to question it.

For now, Eddie was alone as the nurses got Buck stable and settled into a room. The ride from Buck’s loft to the nearest hospital was less than fifteen minutes with the aid of sirens and the control of traffic lights, but it wasn’t enough to settle his nerves

There was so much that could still go wrong. A complication from the damn blood thinners. They could have to intubate because Buck couldn’t breathe on his own. Anything.

And he still had to call Bobby.

Chim had been on the phone with Maddie as he and Hen pulled away, but Eddie had been tasked with calling their Captain. Every time he picked up the phone though, a rage came over him that had him white knuckling the device. Buck’s slurred words slithering through his ears again and again, “ _Bobby doesn’t want me back_.”

Eddie, unfortunately, couldn’t put if off any longer and selected Bobby’s contact. Their Captain had been on swing shift with Eddie, so he and Athena would likely already be in bed sleeping peacefully. Without any idea of the tragedy that almost shattered all of their lives.

Athena was the one that answered the phone, her husky voice making Eddie pinch the bridge of his nose. “Booooy, there better be one hell of a fire for you to be calling this soon after shift.”

“Athena,” Eddie responded, voice rougher than he expected it to be, “I need to speak with Bobby, where is he?”

The police officer’s tone shifted from faintly irritated to attentive and worried as she answered. “Stepped into the bathroom just as you called, what’s going on Eddie?”

“It’s Buck—“ Eddie couldn’t find the next words, exhaling noisily into the phone. He started over with Athena’s concerned noise, “—Bobby needs to get to Cedars-Sinai. It’s serious, Athena.”

He was about to cut the call off on that, not wanting to go into any detail and not sure how many more words he could find before he became mute, but Athena’s voice whipped out over the phone—“Eddie Diaz, if you hang up that phone on me you are in for a world of hurt.”—and Eddie had been to war but you do not get on the bad side of Athena Grant. 

Eddie huffed, but he didn’t hang up the phone. He didn’t say anything either so Athena took his silence as the opportunity speak. “Is Buck alright?”

His exhale was almost an hysterical giggle. _Alright? He just tried to kill himself; no, he’s not alright._ “No, Athena, he’s not alright.” He didn’t elaborate. He was shutting down. Walls so high that they rivaled Everest.

Athena’s voice took on a tinge of that same worried alarm every mother’s did when they were getting bad news about their kids. “Is he _alive?!”_

“As far as I know, yes.”

“ _As far as you know?!_ Jesus, Eddie, you’re going to have to give me a little more information.”

Bobby’s deep voice echoed over the line in the background, and Eddie heard Athena shuffle around. Could imagine her putting her hand out and telling him to wait. The problem was that Eddie couldn’t find anymore words, and he was rapidly about to lose his shit. “I can’t,” his voice cracked, and his next inhale sounded _broken_ to his own ears, “just get here, okay?”

He ended the call, ignoring Bobby’s contact when it popped back on his screen as Athena tried to get him back on the phone. He shoved it in his pocket and shut his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands into his face until he saw white spots. That was not a conversation for over the phone, he’d done what he needed to do to get Bobby to the hospital. His job was done.

“Mr. Diaz?”

Eddie’s head whipped up at the sound of his name, and he found a petite latina nurse in blue scrubs looking for him. He stood, staggered really, toward her, and she smiled at him comfortingly. “Mr. Buckley is in a room, we’re going to monitor him closely and let him sleep it off. It’s a really good thing you found him when you did.”

He nodded numbly, putting his shaking hands in his pockets. “Can I see him?”

“Right this way.”

She showed him down the hallway to where they’d put Buck, but Eddie paused as she left him at the door, not quite brave enough to go inside. The image of Buck, pale and limp, slumped against his couch with percocets and alcohol spilled around him was still dancing around his head, seared into his retinas.

But he couldn’t— _wouldn’t_ —leave Buck alone. Not again.

Eddie braced himself as he pushed his way through the privacy curtain, pressing the heel of his hand against the St. Christopher medal under his shirt to distract himself. He knew from experience the pain of seeing Buck in a hospital bed, but as soon as his eyes settled on him, he knew that this was even worse than after the truck bombing. He shuddered, eyes heating with tears as he looked at the figure curled on his side under the plain hospital blankets.

Buck was a big man, several inches taller than Eddie himself, with broad shoulders that carried people to safety in the most hellish of fires. But, right now, he looked so small. Diminished. The light drained from him to leave behind the sputtering remains of a dying star. The nurses had taken Buck’s clothes, replacing them with a ridiculously large paper gown that only heightened the illusion, reinforced the feeling of _wrongness_ as Eddie looked down on his once vibrant friend.

His feet forced their way forward, shuffling across the tile so the Eddie could sink down on watery knees into the chair at Buck’s bedside. It put him at the same level as the other man, an oxygen mask taking over the lower part of Buck’s face, a damp fog building up under the vaguely green material. Buck was still unconscious, his eyelids red and shiny over the dark, black bags that masked his cheeks. _At least_ , Eddie thought, _they didn’t have to intubate him._

Cautiously, Eddie took Buck’s hand, careful of the IV that had been placed in the back of it. The other man’s skin was cold against Eddie’s, the paleness exacerbated by his natural tan. He covered Buck’s hand, clasping it between both of his, forcing the limp fingers to curl around his own before pressing a chaste kiss against them.

_He’s alive._ The realization hit Eddie _hard_ , and his eyes slammed shut as a sob bubbled up in the back of his throat. It fought its way free through the sudden, painful block of his teeth, coming out as a strangled, hitching whine.

“God, what were you thinking?” Eddie gasped out, his next inhale was as sharp and painful as swallowing a knife. “What were you thinking, you dumbass? What would I have done without you?” He pressed another kiss to the back of Buck’s hand, longer this time, while he was still unconscious and couldn’t see Eddie do it, while it was still safe to show how much he loved him. “Don’t you ever do that to me again, mi amor, por favor.”

He didn’t know how long it took for him to get his breathing back under control. How long it took for him to shove all of his feelings back into the box at the back of his head, but it was long enough that Eddie felt exhausted. He picked his head up from their joined hands slowly, blinking his swollen eyes to take in Buck’s slack features.

_I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry we let it get this bad. I’m so sorry I didn’t hear you._ Scooting forward, Eddie placed his hand in Buck’s hair, brushing back the unruly curls, thumbing gently at the pulse in Buck’s temple. He sniffled, pressing a final kiss to Buck’s birthmark. _I’m not going to let this happen again, I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the response <3


	4. Platitudes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am. . . not as happy with this chapter but what can you do?

Eddie settled back in his seat as he watched Buck, waiting for their friends to appear. All signs of tears had been carefully obliterated. He wasn’t okay, he wouldn’t fool anyone, but he couldn’t be that vulnerable right now.

At the movement at the door, his shoulders tightened as Hen peeked around the corner. She’d changed out of her uniform, and her oversized sweater made her look softer, approachable in a way the uniform always lacked. He gave her a tight smile, more a compression of the lips in acknowledgement, as she stepped in.

She returned the expression, gaze examining Buck where he was sleeping on the hospital bed. “How’s he doing?” she asked, voice hushed.

“Think he’s gonna be fine. Just sleeping it off.”

She nodded, pulling up the second chair in the room and settling in next to him. She put her hand on Buck’s bent knee, squeezing gently.

Eddie cleared his throat, thumbing at the side of his nose. “Where’s Chim?”

“Went to go pick up Maddie. She wasn’t in any condition to drive.” She paused, looking at him from the side of her glasses. “You get ahold of Bobby?”

He didn’t look at her. “Athena,” he answered, voice clipped.

Hen’s face scrunched in commiseration, response dry. “I’m sure that was a pleasant conversation.”

“Wasn’t long,” he scoffed, lacing his fingers together. “Just told them to get here. Not a topic for over the phone.” Eddie didn’t have to explain any further, sure that Hen already knew what her best friend’s reaction would have been.

Hen hummed, rocking back in her chair. The silence was stilted, awkward. Eddie and Hen got long great normally, but they handled themselves differently when it came to personal, emotional situations.

Eddie took care of things himself. He didn’t share. He didn’t have time to focus on himself, so he shut down. Focused on the problem and how to manage it for everyone else. It’d worked for him this long.

The fights didn’t count. They were an outlet for the anger. Let him focus on the problem so it didn’t get in the way.

Hen was Eddie’s exact opposite. She talked. Especially after everything with Karen. She shared and pushed and meddled. She cried and worked and problem solved until everything was okay again.

Eddie did not want to talk right now. But you couldn’t escape the inevitable.

“Eddie,” Hen said, as if he might break with just the weight of her words, “what happened?”

Eddie almost growled at her, the simmering anger he felt during a fight right beneath his skin threatening to explode. He knew what Hen was asking: she wasn’t asking if Buck tried to kill himself, because she already knew. She could read the signs on the floor as well as he could, knew that even if Buck wasn’t a paramedic that he knew what he was doing when he mixed alcohol and opiates. She was asking how he knew, if Buck asked for help, how Eddie knew to be there.

The breath he took was barely a sip of air, his chest too full of everything he was feeling to have room for it. But he answered anyway. “I called him to see if he wanted to talk to Chris. He was already drunk. Think he’d already taken the pills.” He clenched his teeth around his next words, eyes screwed up against the memory as the grip on his own fingers became white knuckled. “He told me he couldn’t do it anymore,” he breathed, moments away from pressing his face into Buck’s mattress and screaming. The tears earlier had done nothing to still the raging storm inside of him, they had been the droplets before the stormfront.

Hen put a hand on his shoulder, and if Eddie had the power to lift his head he knew he would see how soft her eyes were behind her glasses. She took a shaky breath. “I can’t even begin to believe it,” she whispered, “I know we tease him about being a golden retriever, but it seems like he’s always happy, always got a joke to tell. I guess that’s why they say those are the ones you have to look out for—cause they’re the ones that actually follow through, you know?”

Normally, Eddie could handle Hen’s “pearls of wisdom” because he knew she was coming from a place of love. Trying to order everything so that it made sense. But, right now, he wanted to hear anything else, and if he opened his mouth he would say something he regretted. So he didn’t answer her, holding himself so tightly that he was almost vibrating.

She seemed to get the message, leaving her hand on his shoulder. Letting Buck rest in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Maddie!


	5. Accusations

“So, you finally talked to him?” 

Maddie’s acerbic question cut through the air, making Eddie jump from where exhaustion had been pulling him into a light doze. Hen had left a few minutes before, seeking coffee to keep him awake. Leaving Eddie alone to face Buck’s sister. 

Eddie managed to still his racing heart and looked over to see Maddie and Chimney in the doorway of Buck’s hospital room. Maddie’s face was blotched red, eyes suspiciously wet and overly bright. Her lips were pressed tightly together, the white edges holding back even more words that Eddie knew would cut to the bone. 

He opened his mouth only to close it, climbing stiffly to his feet. “Maddie, I. . .” he trailed off, licking his lips uneasily. 

“What, Eddie? What happened? Can you explain it to me? My little brother hasn’t been telling me anything, and all of a sudden I hear that you’ve brought him here. What did you say to him?” 

Chimney shuffled his weight from foot to foot, looking between Eddie and Maddie, the smaller man clearly catching that interjecting himself here would help no one. “I’m gonna go get some coffee, see where Hen went off to. Yeah, that’s. . .” He scampered off without another word, leaving Eddie and Maddie staring at each other. 

“That’s not. . . Maddie, I don’t. . . “ Eddie had no idea what to say, his eyes wide. How do you explain to someone the type of phone call he’d had with Buck? The heartbreak in his voice, the hopelessness that came across with every sob. How do you reject the accusations in those questions, the implication that it was Eddie’s fault, when you felt like they were right?

He wasn’t up to the task. He was a soldier. A medic. A father. He’d had to tell family members that their loved one died, even that they’d killed themselves, and explained that it wasn’t the family member’s fault. That there wasn’t always more they could have done. But to do the same for a friend? Look his sister in the eye and try to answer all of her questions? It was impossible, and Eddie’s words dried up in his throat like the sand that haunted his dreams. 

Buck shifted on the bed, however, immediately tearing both Eddie and Maddie’s attention from each other and onto him as he gave a soft moan, eyelids fluttering. His gaze was more than glassy, sliding over both his friend and sister without settling on them, face twisted up in distress and confusion. 

Eddie moved automatically, heedless of Maddie’s aborted lurch toward her brother, pushing his fingers through Buck’s messy curls as he soothed him. “Shhhhh, I’m here, cariño, I’m here, shhhh.” Eddie’s other hand ran up and down Buck’s arm, pressing against his shoulder to keep him laying down and on his side. “Go back to sleep, Evan, it’s okay, shhhh.” 

Buck didn’t fight him, not really conscious enough to put a lot of effort into getting away or finding out what was going on. The Narcan was doing the job of negating the effects of the Percocet in his system, but Buck had ingested enough alcohol to almost kill himself without the opiates, and the Narcan would make him sick as a dog for a while yet. 

He wouldn’t remember any of this when he actually came around, but it didn’t make it any easier for Eddie to watch. 

After a few moments that felt like an eternity, Buck settled, curling around his pillow, the strap from the face mask cutting across his cheek. Eddie sighed, adjusting it so it was more comfortable and running his hand across Buck’s hair to rest on the back of his neck. “What are we going to do with you, Buck?” he murmured. 

There was a shift of movement at the corner of his eye, and Eddie’s gaze jumped back to Maddie. He’d almost forgotten that she was there, her position at the door too far away for her to have reached Buck before Eddie got there. Her expression was inscrutable as she examined where Eddie was touching Buck, her dark eyes running across his hands where he caressed her brother and back up to his face. He swallowed, knowing exactly how intimate the gesture actually was even if it was similar to the touches he’d shared with his friend more than once. Their relationship had always been tactile; big hugs, pats to the back, and playful rough housing had been exchanged easily enough for nights pressed side by side when the other had a nightmare, and helpful hands while Buck went through PT. 

Now, with his heart torn to shreds and hanging from his sleeve, Eddie wasn’t able to put the typical ‘bro’ flair on his interaction with Buck, and Maddie could see right through it. He didn’t have time to voice any bumbling explanation before her expression softened, and her lips twitched in an attempted smile. Her anger drained away as she dropped her shoulders, an echoing heartache revealing itself in her eyes. “He really missed you, Eddie.” 

Hot tears sprang up in Eddie’s eyes, and he screwed his lip up to keep in the pained gasp her words pressed out of his diaphragm, turning it into a short exhale through his nose. Maddie nodded, her own tears standing out in her doe eyes, and came up to her little brother, looking down on him with a sad, twisted expression. Eddie made room for her, and she brushed the back of her knuckles over the apple of Buck’s cheek, the gesture so loving and familial it was almost motherly. 

“After everything that happened with his leg, he was so happy to have you and Christopher. Every one of our conversations was about you or Chris, or getting back to the station so that the could be back out there with you.” Her voice turned deeper, expression wry as she rolled her eyes and mimicked Buck, “‘He’s got my back, I gotta have his,’” she quoted, “I swear, he wouldn’t let that go.” 

Eddie’s lips trembled, thrust back into the memory of that night with the grenade, and he looked down at Buck. He wanted to tell her to stop, that his poor, battered heart couldn’t take it, but he wanted to know. Needed to know what he’d been unwilling to listen to. So that he could see Buck’s side. 

Maddie’s expression turned even more somber somehow. “It just got worse after the tsunami and when Bobby wouldn’t let him come back. I tried to tell him to take it slow, that Bobby was just worried about him, but after our parents. . . god, they messed him up, and I wasn’t around to fix it. I really don’t blame him for not trusting me to stick around this time, either.” 

“This isn’t your fault, Maddie,” Eddie cut in, shaking his head adamantly. He refused to believe that Maddie wouldn’t have done anything possible for her brother. 

She sniffled, brushing at her cheeks. “Maybe not, but it’s not your fault either, Eddie.” 

He made a choked sound of disagreement. This was his fault. It may not have been intentional, but it was the result of what he’d done. What his team had done and allowed to happen through a mask of good intentions and willful blindness. Maddie shook her head when he opened his mouth, cutting him off, unsure of what he was even going to say, but intent on taking the blame rightfully owed to him. 

“No, Eddie, I was out of line. I just. . . “ she swallowed back a sob, looking up at the ceiling as more tears gathered in her eyes. “God, what was he thinking?” 

Eddie let it go. It wasn’t the time to argue about fault. Tentatively, he put an arm around Maddie’s shoulders. When she didn’t draw away, he pulled her into his side, letting her tuck her head into his shoulder. “I don’t think he was thinking, Maddie,” he took a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a second against the lingering ache in his chest, “I think he was just hurting. But we can be better,” tears made his voice crack, “we can be there when he wakes up, right?” 

“Yeah,” Maddie’s arm snuck around his waist, hugging him tightly without stopping her contact with Buck, “yeah, we can be better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have part of the next chapter written, but it's going to take a few days to actually finish. Hopefully you guys will stick around for it. :) Next is Bobby and Athena.


	6. Update

Hey guys, I normally hate chapter updates like this, but what can you do? I've gotten several comments requesting an update to this fic, and while I have just a little more written, and had planned to continue, I don't know when that will be. I wrote this at a very dark time mental health wise, and I can't put myself back in that mindset right now. I truly appreciate all of the love you've shown this fic, and I hope that I'll be able to complete the story at some point. Take care of yourselves, mental health matters. <3 

In apology for having you wait, and because I usually hate updates like this, please have the confrontation between Bobby and Eddie.

~~~~

“Bobby, we have to get ahead of this. It’ll ruin Buck’s chances of coming back if the Chief hears about it.”

The Captain was already shaking his head. “I can’t do that, Eddie. This is serious, at the very least he’s going to need to submit to mandated counseling. We can’t put him back out there when his mental health is like this.”

“I’m not saying that we should, but there’s so many things that we can do to make sure he gets the help he needs before he comes back. Just tell the Chief it was a bad reaction between his pain pills and the blood thinners. He’s still got a scrip for breakthrough pain because of the screws and rod. It doesn’t have to go on his record as a—“ Eddie swallows, feeling lightheaded as the words _suicide attempt_ get lodged in his throat.

Bobby grimaces, the instinctual, _horrible_ fear of losing a child radiating out of every pore. “He’s not ready to come back, Eddie. Covering for him will just make him push himself again. I was right to try and make him take it easy, and this is just proof of that!”

“For fuck’s sake, Bobby! _Covering for him?_ You think this is on him?! I’ve known soldiers who’ve had less near death experiences than Buck’s had in the last year who blew their goddamn brains out! We _let him_ push away his entire support system because he thought _you didn’t want him._ ” Bobby reels back, eyes widening. “Yeah, you know what he said to me tonight? That he wanted to come home, but we had already replaced him with Bosko. That he was alone, and he wasn’t good enough.” Eddie spreads his hands helplessly, holding all of his futility between the empty space. “Bobby, I’m suppose to be his best friend, and I practically called him selfish for only seeing his side of things when he was in such a dark place it was lucky if he could see his own hand in front of his face! We weren’t there for him when it mattered, and YOU KNOW BETTER!” By the end, Eddie’s in Bobby’s face, voice just short of screaming.

“Looking back, he might as well have been screaming for help, and we let him think he couldn’t come to us. This is the man who has literally been there for all of us without us ever once having to utter the word ‘ _Help’!_ ”

Something in Bobby’s expression breaks at that, the older man exhaling through his teeth as his shoulders draw back defensively.

It throws Eddie, who’d been prepared for more arguing before talking the man over to his side. He backs off of his Captain, cocking his head. “What?” 

“Before you got here,” Bobby starts, the words seeming to be drug out of him like lead weights, “I hit a low point, relapsed in a bad way. Hen and Buck came to my place, threw me in a shower, got me back on my feet. Didn’t let me dismiss them or their concerns. Buck. . . Buck told me, ‘Maybe ask for help once in a while,’ and I did. Right then, right there.” He draws in a deep breath, blinkingup at the ceiling with tear filled eyes. “But without that push. . . No way would it’ve happened.” He turns his hazel gaze back to Eddie, resolve steeling his features. “You’re right, Eddie. I should’ve known better.” He squares his shoulders and Captain Nash is who speaks next, issuing a plan with all of the steadfast authority the 118 has come to depend upon. “I’ll handle the Chief. We’re all going to be there for Buck, and get him the help he needs so that he can come back home, alright?”

Eddie nods, the relief seeping through his system heady after running on adrenaline for the last few hours. “Thank you, Bobby.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/whumpywhumper
> 
> I live on likes, kudos, and comments: feed your local, starving writer. 
> 
> I used google translate for the Spanish, please don't murder me!
> 
> Please be safe: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org


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